


An Old Friend

by PurpleSmurf8



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleSmurf8/pseuds/PurpleSmurf8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>221B gets a surprise visit from a man of Sherlock's past. The three men have a nice little chat.<br/>My goodness I'm not sure how else to summarize it than that, it's got some humor, wonder, a bit of banter.<br/>Victor Trevor was really fun to write about all in all :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Old Friend

_Will be stopping by, Thursday at 1 o’ clock  
                        -Your old friend_

 

*

            John walked into the living room Thursday afternoon, shrugging on his coat and turning for the door.

“Leaving?” Sherlock asked from his chair.

“Going out for a bit.”

“Sure you wouldn’t want to stay?” Sherlock asked.

John paused at the door and turned to Sherlock, “Why?”

“We have a visitor.”

John’s eyes flit to the door, hearing Mrs. Hudson greeting someone downstairs.

The army doctor eyed Sherlock suspiciously as a knock came at the door and John moved to answer it, only to back up curiously when Sherlock raised his hand for him to stop. “Come in!” he called.

            There was the slightest pause before the door opened and revealed a tall man who looked at Sherlock for a long moment, then walked further into the room. When he spotted John, he said a “Hello” with a nod and courteous smile.  

            John tried to sum up the tall stranger in a well-tailored grey suit as he closed the door behind him, then looked back, trying to place Sherlock’s wondering expression. _Is he surprised?_

Sherlock snapped back into his usual impassive expression before John could pin-point the specific emotion, “Trevor.”

John’s mind ran over the name with no recollection. _Trevor?_

            The man looked almost sheepish, “Sherlock.”

The detective cleared his throat, looking back at John, “John Watson, this is Victor Trevor.”

Trevor extended his hand, “Ah, nice to meet you John Watson,” he gestured between the two, “I’m, not interrupting anything am I?”

John opened his mouth to answer but Sherlock stated airily, “No, no. John shares the flat with me here at Baker Street.”

“Oh, I see.”

Sherlock smirked, “Surprised?”

Trevor gave a laughing grin, “Yeah, a bit.”

Sherlock stood with his usual subtle quickness, “What brings you to 221B?”

Trevor put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet, “Oh, was in the neighborhood. You figured my text then?”

            “It crossed my mind.”

“Didn’t want to sound too much like one of your criminals. Thought it might be a bit of a giveaway though.” He said with a smile that reached his high cheekbones, then added more offhandedly, “If it were anyone else I would have suggested to meet at a bar or café, but since your number was on your website for all to find, and it’s you, I thought this better.” Trevor saw John’s puzzled expression and added, “Sherlock and I were friends at university.”

            _University, course_. John tried to keep the slight wonder out of his reply, “Friends?”

“Trevor was the only person that seemed to tolerate me,” Sherlock cut in.

“Yes well, it’s been quite a while hasn’t it.” Trevor answered.

Sherlock sat on the arm of his chair and crossed his long legs. “It has. That tells me also that you weren’t just in the neighborhood.”

            Trevor made his way to the mantle, “Glad you’re still using those skills of yours,” He paused, looking at the skull. “You’re becoming somewhat famous these days. One can read about the adventures of Sherlock Holmes in the paper,” he glanced at John with a lopsided smirk, “or a blog.”

“Does everyone know about my blog?” John mumbled half to himself.

“You should be flattered John,” Sherlock commented, seeming amused.

            John ignored Sherlock and adjusted his stance, crossing his arms, “That’s a nice suit you have there.”

“Like it?” Trevor said, looking down, tugging at the sleeves as if it were his new toy. “It’s a Westwood.”

“Gift?” Sherlock asked with a quick glance and hint of a smile.

John looked down, attempting to hide a chuckle.

“Ah, no actually.” Trevor answered, unsure whether he should take that as an insult or not, “did I miss the joke?”

“Sorry,” Sherlock evaded and asked, “So, are you still a big proprietor? You’re in London on business I assume.”

John watched Sherlock run his eyes over Trevor’s profile.

“Yes actually.” He paused; brows furrowed, a bit of his cheerful demeanor gone, but still good-naturedly said, “What have you been doing since university? Surely you haven’t been living on detective work this whole time.”

“Oh, I haven’t been doing anything of real consequence,” he answered casually.

“Everything is of consequence to you.”

Sherlock gave a slight smirk but ignored this.

            Trevor wandered to the violin leaning on the stand and ran his fingers over the instrument lightly, “Still play?”

“Occasionally.”

“Ooo and compose,” he added, seeing the scribbled on music sheets, clearly enjoying the banter. The man turned back to Sherlock, “Have a case you’re working on?”

“Not currently.”

            There was a pause as the flat went quiet. Then Trevor turned to John and asked thoughtfully, “What do you do John? You’re not a detective yourself are you?”

“Ah, no. Army Doctor until recently.”

“Soldier eh? Good on you mate,” Trevor looked from Sherlock, back to John, “How’d you end up meeting Sherlock? If you don’t mind me asking.”

            John shifted in place, “Coincidence actually.”

“Ah coincidence. Not sure I believe in coincidence. Like to think fate has a say in it. Sherlock always gave me a hard time for thinking such things. Makes life more fun I think.”

            Trevor stretched his arm out to glance at his watch, “Looks like I better get a move on.” He made his way to stand in front of Sherlock, “It’s been great seeing you old chap,” he said with a smile as he extended his hand.

Sherlock shook his hand, “Likewise.”

            Trevor went to open the door, looking over to John, “You take care of him, John Watson. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

John gave a nod and watched him leave, listening to his steps descend the stairs.

            “Quite the character.” John said, still looking toward the door.

“Yes, suppose he hasn’t changed much.”

“Have you?” John asked, glancing back to his flatmate.

“I don’t care much for the word _change_. It’s such a vague term.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” John said expectantly.

“Have you?” Sherlock countered.

John let out a huff of air at Sherlock’s evasion, “Yeah, I think so. And I think you have too.”

Sherlock gave John a long stare before looking away and striding toward the kitchen, “That’s your opinion.”

John turned away and smirked, “Suppose it is.”


End file.
